


Time

by spaceprinxess



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-10 08:06:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3283079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceprinxess/pseuds/spaceprinxess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine knowing how much time every person around you has left until they die. I do. Phan...<br/>This is a disgusting summary, I'm so sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

Time; it rules us. It controls every tiny decision we make. It is always moving, never slowing, never changing. That same constant pace. You can never escape it. We all have a predetermined amount of time set for us at birth. For some, it’s not even a day, while others live what is considered a whole lifetime.

Imagine if you knew how long every person around you has left on this pitiless earth. I’ve been able to see those daunting numbers for as long as I can remember. The digits floating around every single person I’ve ever laid eyes upon - constantly counting down towards their inevitable death.

It’s hell knowing when everyone will die; knowing that I can’t do anything to change it. I guess I was lucky though, in some sort of sick way. I knew how long I had left and how long my family had left. I knew when my grandmother was going to pass away. It gave me some kind of relief that I knew my parents had the rest of their lives to live - that they weren’t going to die young. 

I used to sit in the park every day after school on my way home. It gave me time to be alone and think in the silence. I started noticing a little girl would come to the park every Wednesday with her mother. She didn’t have long left. 3 months. As the time drew nearer, she stopped coming to the park, perhaps she was too ill. A week before her time was set to stop, I saw her at the park once more with her mother. She was sitting in a wheelchair and had tubes coming out of her nose and the back of her hand, which connected to several bags hanging off the side of her wheelchair. She looked so small and frail, yet she still smiled just as brightly as she did the first time I saw her. I smiled as I stood and waved at them as I was leaving, the little girl grinned at me, waving back.

I'd debated with myself the entire week leading up to that next Wednesday, as to whether or not I should return. Maybe the numbers were wrong, maybe the little girl was still alive. As I sat where I always did, under the biggest tree in the empty park, I saw her mother walk to the swings alone, shoulders slouched, head hung, arms crossed tightly across her chest. She sat on the swing and cried and I just watched. For half an hour I sat and watched this poor woman grieve for her child, before I stood and walked in the direction of my home. I glanced behind me and locked eyes with her. She looked so broken. It shocked me, I had never seen so much emotion clearly shown in someone's eyes before. I nodded, giving her a sad smile, before turning on my heel and leaving. I never saw her again. I stopped going to the park, always taking the long way home just to avoid seeing it. 

The look in that mother’s eyes haunted my dreams for many weeks after. I started distancing myself from my friends, my family, everyone. I thought that if I had no one to care about, no one to love, no one who loved me, then I’d never have to experience what that mother from the park had, nor would I cause someone to suffer that pain. 

I tried to disconnect myself from the numbers. It made me seem apathetic and callous, which made people keep their distance. The emotions radiating off me made people feel uncomfortable, so they would all keep their distance. Who would want to be friends with an ‘uncaring’ and ‘heartless’ person like me? I could hear the whispers and rumours that flew around school, things they would never say to me directly, they seemed to be afraid of me. I didn't understand that, I'd never do anything to harm someone, I'm trying to do the opposite. I may be sad, and I may be alone, but I'll never have to feel the pain of my heart being shattered. 

I didn’t feel any kind of change coming on; normally I could tell when something was about to happen. Like I had become attuned to the sense of change in the air, but somehow, I’d missed this one. 

It started off like every other day. Get out of bed late, get ready for school in a hurry. My parents stand in the kitchen looking at me worriedly, but they never say anything as I leave through the front door, my head hung low to avoid seeing the numbers hovering around them. The same boring, unbroken routine every day. I would get to school just in time and take my seat, nobody sparing a glance at the weird, lonely boy. I felt like I was in a bubble of invisibility while I was at school. Even the teachers were put off by my presence and tried to not take notice of me as much as they could. 

That’s when it happened. The change I’d somehow missed. Here came the turning point in the figurative road of my life and I was approaching it fast, and it seems my brakes have been cut. Do I crash and burn, or do I grab the wheel and try not to spin out of control? 

He was absolutely breathtaking. His shiny, black hair was swept into a side fringe, the end of it brushing gently against the top of his cheek. His alabaster skin, pale as ivory piano keys, looked sensitive, the bluish hues of his veins visible along the inside of his forearm. He stood beside the teachers desk, with his broad shoulders back and his right knee bent slightly. His left arm hung by his side while his right arm was turned around awkwardly, his wrist bent back as he rested the tips of his fingers in the top of the pocket on his jeans. As my eyes trailed back up his body to his face I had to hold back a small gasp. His eyes were stunning. From what I could see, they were a beautiful ocean blue, wide and deep, shining with a strange sense of innocence, which would normally be out of place on a boy his age, but it seemed to fit him perfectly. He was tall too, probably around the same height as I was, it was hard to tell from where I sat.

It wasn’t the fact that he was positively the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen that shocked me when we locked eyes, no, it was the fact that his numbers where exactly the same as mine, down to the very last second. I’d never seen two people with the same time, ever, and I’d seen so many numbers. I’d know, I’d remember if two were the same. Sure, I’d seen some a few minutes apart, even a few seconds apart, in rare cases where there was some kind of accident, but never exactly the same. 

I blinked, shaking my head, when I realised that I was still staring into his eyes. He smirked at me and raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, which caused me to blush fiercely as I quickly looked down at my hands, feigning concentration on picking at my bitten away fingernails. I heard the teacher introducing the odd new boy to the class but I wasn’t paying enough attention, too focused on my own embarrassment, until I heard the seat beside me being pulled out. I nearly slapped myself when I realised all too slowly that of course he’d have to sit next to me. It was the only available seat left in the class. I chanced a quick peak at him from beneath my fringe, he was grinning at me, his flawless hair falling slightly across his right eye. I looked ahead siting up straighter in my seat, blushing once again. 

I heard him shuffling in his seat and looked over at him one more, before I could stop myself. He was setting up his things, giving me some time to actually look at his face. His eyes where so wonderful, much more so up close, from a distance they had just seemed blue, but now I could see the kaleidoscope of colours in his eyes. He didn’t blink very often, and considering his eyes were so wide open, it made his face seem younger. His high cheekbones framed under his eyes nicely, and it was an odd thing to say, but he did have really nice eyebrows. His hair looked so feathery soft, it was a struggle resisting the urge to reach over and brush it from his eye. I was trying to take in every little detail of his face and then there I was, staring again. His giggle brought me back to my senses.    
“Oh, uh, sorry...” I mumbled, looking away from him, my face heating up. He laughed quietly.    
“It’s okay, really,” he whispered back, leaning in slightly towards me. He had quite a deep voice and a Northern accent, which made my heart jump in my chest.    
“I’m Phil by the way, in case you didn’t hear,” he said, introducing himself.    
“Dan,” I muttered in response, turning to look at him. He was smiling at me, the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkling, he was beautiful, and I was doomed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, redoing chapters bc I suck, I do have the fourth chapter written, just need to edit it


	2. Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

Sitting next to him is agony. The longer I was near him the more I wanted to discover everything about him - the more I wanted to become his friend. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to him. Yes, I understood that we were going to die at the same time, the numbers never lied, never changed. I would never forget that, I would never get my hopes up, not again. That’s why the temptation was so strong, I would never have to feel the pain of losing him, nor him me. We would leave together, never having to miss the other. But that wasn’t what was stopping me from getting close to him. 

I could see the innocence in his eyes, he was bright and happy and full of life, and I was none of those. I spent every day alone, wondering why I had this awful curse placed upon me. Why couldn’t I be like Phil? Happy, free, ignorant. Oh, I would give anything to be ignorant. To not know. To not have to struggle through every single day trying to keep my sanity. To be able to make friends and enjoy time with my family. To not have to worry about the fact that my biology teacher is going to die in 3 weeks. To not know that the girl who sits at the front of my maths class is going to die this year. They say ignorance is bliss, and there couldn't be a truer statement than that.

I would bring him down. He wouldn’t be able to cope with who I am. We are so different and I am so toxic. It’s better if he becomes friends with the normal people at our school. They’d avoid him like the plague if he were seen with me too much. They’d probably all think that he was like me and I can’t let that happen to him. I couldn't blame them for that. I knew I felt weird to be around, that I put off a really strange vibe, I guess that's a side affect of knowing when everyone would die.  
“Dan?” Phil questions, nudging my side, sending shockwaves of electricity running through me. I look at up him as he stands next to me, snapping me out of my thoughts.  
“Huh?” I mumbled, realising the class is basically empty now.  
“The bell just rang. Are-are you okay?” He asks quietly, hoisting his bag over his shoulder. I shake my head.  
“Hmm, no, I’m fine. Just distracted.” I reply, packing my things up. He stands behind me silently and I try not to think about him watching me as I clumsily packing my things away. Swinging my bag over my shoulder I go to walk off, but I'm suddenly frozen in place when he grabs my arm. He notices me tense up and quickly lets my wrist go, stepping away from me slightly.  
“Oh, um, s-sorry. I was just wondering if you could maybe show me where my next class is? I’m not too sure where anything is, a-and I can’t understand the map they gave me,” he was rambling and blushing and stuttering over his words and it was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. He looks at me with wide, hopeful eyes and any urge to say no – to keep up my 'image' and leave - flies out the window.  
“Uh yeah, sure. What’s your next class?” I ask, moving to stand beside him as he pulls his time table out of his bag. I bite my cheek to avoid groaning, this can’t be happening.  
“Um, that’s-that’s great. We have all the same classes except for art,” I mutter, trying not to frown at the piece of paper in his hands.  
“Really? That’s good, I won’t get lost then.” He smiles at me brightly and I can’t help but smile back.  
“Come on then, we’re going to be late,” I tell him, walking quickly out the classroom, Phil trailing behind me. He keeps up with me, his long legs striding beside mine with ease. People generally have to jog slightly to keep up with me, although, when someone does get stuck running an errand with me for a teacher, they usually trail about a metre behind me.  
“Would you mind if I sat with you at lunch? You-you don’t have to say yes, it’s just, I don’t know anyone yet and you seem really nice and…” he trails off, looking away from me blushing as we turn a corner, drawing nearer to our next class. I almost trip over my own feet in shock. What can I say to that? I can’t be rude to him, he just said I was nice! I'm not a mean person. I'm never rude to anyone, other than, you know, not talking to them, but I'm still polite, I still use my manners, and he's managed to hit one of my weak spots in just a few moments of knowing me. I can't handle people complimenting me, maybe it's because it's a very rare occurrence, but the moment it does happen, I feel like I need to go out of my way to make them happy. Despite everything, I care too much.  
“Yeah, you can sit with me.” I reply quietly, trying not to slap myself for being so stupid. What am I doing? I’m ruining any chance he has at making friends! I should never have spoken to him. I don’t speak to anyone. What was so different about him? His numbers shouldn't matter this much! Why did I introduce myself? Why did I stare?  
“Your friends won’t mind?” He questions, glancing at me as we start to slow, almost at our destination. I let out a small laugh.  
“I don’t have any friends.” I reply bluntly as I stop in front of our class.  
“Oh, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Why don’t you though, if you don’t mind me asking…” He inquires, rambling, as I knock on the door.  
“It’s alright Phil.” I whisper to him as the door swings open.  
“Ah, Daniel, you’re late. I wouldn’t expect that of you,” the teacher says disapprovingly before turning to Phil.  
“You must be the new boy, Philip is it? Were you showing him the way Daniel?” She asks, I nod as she steps aside, letting me walk into the classroom. I hear Phil say something but I’m not listening anymore, already noticing the eyes on me, on us. They were all probably wondering the same thing, why was I talking to the new boy, I don’t talk to anyone. I couldn't stop myself from thinking 'haha, same' as I watched them quickly looking away from me as I pass.

I shuffle to my desk at the back of the class and slide into my seat, trying to make as little noise as possible. Phil follows behind and sits next to me. I try not to take notice of how close he’s sitting, but it’s harder to do that than one would think. Every nerve in my body is on fire, shocks of pleasure running across my skin every time Phil’s arm brushes up against mine as he moves around in his seat. 

I try to play attention to whatever Ms Rileys is saying about symbolism in ancient literature, I honestly do, but Phil’s arm is surprisingly warm. Either he hasn't noticed that we are touching, or he doesn't seem to mind, and it scares me how I hope the second option is true. It's easy to blame my arm brushing against his on my being left handed and he right, so I didn’t say anything or lean away from him as I try to copy down the notes being written on the board. 

I heard him let out a slight sigh next to me and I glanced at him, and yet again, I couldn’t look away. Why did I find him so captivating? The way his hand glides across the paper as he writes. The way his fringe falls across his face, obscuring his vision, making him flick it to the side occasionally. Why did I want to reach out and tuck it behind his ear so badly, to run my fingers across his slightly stumbled jaw in the process? The way his tongue darts out of his mouth to run along his bottom lip, making the light shine off them, before drawing his lip into his mouth, catching it between his teeth and biting down, his brow frowning in concentration. The effort it took to me to not lean across and kiss him was overwhelming. My head snaps back to the front of the classroom when I hear someone cough.

I absentmindedly take down notes as I focus on the sound of his breath, slow and steady, it’s surprisingly calming. What is wrong with me?

A shock wave of electricity runs through me when he leans into me.

“Do you understand any of this?” He whispers, turning to look at me. His face is so close to mine. I shake my head, attempting to clear away the thoughts of reaching out to run my thumb across his lips, but he takes it as my answer. He smiles at me again, eyes sparklingly so gorgeously, even under the harsh fluorescent lights of the classroom.

“It doesn’t really matter. If you copy down her notes and study those you’ll basically know everything on the test,” I inform him, forcing myself to look away from his eyes. You could go swimming in those eyes. I wanted to explore them forever.

“Really? Thank you Dan," he replies, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth when he smiles. I nearly fall out of my seat, that shouldn't be allowed, my name shouldn't sound so perfect falling from his lip. I wanted to catch his tongue between my teeth. Fuck, that was adorable. What is going on? Who even is this boy? 

I shrug in response, dragging my bottom lip between my teeth, trying to crush the immense urge to kiss him. He looks back to the front of the room, actually paying attention to what the teacher way saying. 

I grumpily scribble in my notebook as I refrain from throwing up all over my desk because my stupid cheesy thoughts. What was wrong with me? I’d had crushes before, but not like this, and I don’t even know him. I’d literally known him for an hour and I already was repressing extreme urges to kiss him. 

This wasn’t right. I need to sort myself out. Oh, but he’s so nice, so handsome, so everything. Maybe just a little taste. Yes, just a little taste of him and then I’d leave, I’d back out, and he can live his life surrounded by normal people like he should, like he deserves. I just hope I have enough resolve to leave when the time comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, also redone, I really suck, okay


	3. Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

The bell rings, the shrill tone bringing me out of my daydream. I hear Phil chuckle as I jump, knocking my pen off the desk. I lean in my chair to pick it up, just as he does, making our heads knock together.  
“Oh no! I’m sorry! I was just…” he trails off blushing, looking down at his hands. I can't help the smile that spreads across my face.  
“No, it’s okay, really. Is your head okay?” I ask, grinning wider as he looks up at me. He smiles, getting up out of his seat.  
“It’s fine, here’s your pen,” he replies, holding the pen in front of my face. Our hands brush as I take it from him and I feel the heat starting to creep into my cheeks again. Am I just constantly going to be blushing around him, because that's going to get old really fast? Thankfully he's too busy packing away his things to notice my reddening face.  
“So, lunch then?” he questions, turning to face me, sliding his bag onto his back. Why did he seem so comfortable around me? Everyone else still seemed uncomfortable around me, still giving me odd glances and stepping away slightly when I neared them, like I didn’t notice. It's not their fault, I realise that, it's my weird curse, but it still got to me occasionally.   
“I, uh, yeah. Lunch.” I mumble, pulling my bag onto my back too, already feeling the embarrassment.  
“What’s the matter? Do you not want me to sit with you? It’s okay if you don’t,” he says quietly, walking beside me. Although he had said it was okay, I could hear the disappointment in his voice, which made me feel terrible. What is going on with my emotions? They’re normally so in check. How can he affect me so much?  
“No, no, that’s not it. I, uh, I want you to sit wi-with me,” I manage to get out, stumbling over my words. I look down at my feet, hands sliding into my pockets as the whispers started when we walked into the hall.  
“Are you sure you’re okay Dan?” Phil asks, the worry evident in his voice. I nod at him, quickening my pace slightly, he keeps up with me easily, a small frown on his face. I turn the next corner sharply and slow, there weren’t as many people here. Did he not noticed everyone watching us? Letting out a breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding, I stop and face Phil, swinging my arms nervously by my side. He raises an eyebrow at me and crosses his arms, confusion filling his features.   
“I uh, I don’t think you should sit with me…” I mumble, fidgeting with the hem of my school shirt. He frowns, standing up straighter.  
“Why not?” he sounds unfazed but I can hear the hurt hidden in his words. I shake my head and lace my fingers together.  
“People don’t like me Phil, and if you keep talking to me, they won’t like you either,” I explain to him quietly, facing away from him. I hear him chuckle under his breath.   
“Dan, if they’re not going to like me because I’m friends with you, then I honestly don’t care.” Phil states as he walks up to me, placing his hand on my shoulder. A small shiver runs through my spine at his touch. His words shock me, even when I had friends, I knew they would have ditched me if I were to hurt their image, generally people don't like being avoided by everyone. 

I know I push people away. I do it on purpose. I should be pushing Phil away, but he was so different. Even other new kids would stay away from me, without even knowing why, it was just because everyone else did. Yet Phil hadn’t even known me a day and he didn’t care about being disliked if he was my friend. I looked up, glancing at his numbers which I always take so much care to avoid. My heart jolted when I saw our matching numbers floating next to each other. The fact that we'd die together shoots back through me, I'm so used to not considering the number that I'd forgotten momentarily what was so special about him.  
“We’re friends?” I ask, diverting my gaze again. He seemed more confident than before, maybe it was because I hadn’t thrown his hand off my shoulder. Like I would even think of doing that! Not only was causing the hair to raise on my arms, it was also the most someone had touched me in a year, and I'm so glad that it's Phil.  
“If you want us to be,” he said quietly, a gentle grin on his face as he tried to get me to look at him. I let out a small sigh. He’d left it up to me. I want to say yes so badly. He said he didn’t care if no one liked him because he’s friends with me. His time isn’t a problem. I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face as I look at him. Hopefully I don't scare him away.   
“I, yeah, we’re friends,” I tell him, smiling brightly as he grins at me. Suddenly I’m being pulled into a hug and it’s perfect. He’s so warm and he smells amazing, I never want him to let go, but it’s over all too soon when he jumps back quickly, stepping away from me, before I can even wrap my arms around him.  
“Sorry! I’m just excited, I didn’t mean to…” he still has a small smile on his face, but he’s looking away from me, his cheeks flaring up, from embarrassment I suppose. I should try to get him excited again if that's what happens.  
“It’s really okay, I um, I liked it. It’s fine. Come on, I uh, I eat around the back of the library. There’s not usually anyone there, so…” I explain awkwardly, turning my body slightly in the direction we have to go. He looks up, his grin widening when he realises that I wasn’t going to stop being his friend, he won't be getting rid of me that easily, not now.

We walk in silence to my spot, standing closer to each other than before. I'm surprised by how comfortable it is. Our hands would brush occasionally, but I wouldn't pull away and neither would he. I don't even notice the few people stopping to look as we pass by.

Small conversations flittered between us easily for most of the break. We had so many things in common, I was pleasantly surprised to say the least. He was so wonderful.

“Why did you move here? You sound Northern.” I ask, leaning comfortably again the wall behind me, my lunch sitting on my lap. Phil is sitting beside me with his legs crossed, his body turned to face me.  
“I used to live in Manchester. My dad got a promotion, so we moved here because of that. I’m kind of glad we did, I didn’t really get on well with anyone at my old school. Mum had been insisting on staying until I told her I’d prefer it if we moved.” Phil told me, fiddling awkwardly with his fingers.  
“Is it bad if I say I’m happy you didn’t get on well with them then?” I question shyly, a small grin playing on my face. He shakes his head and laughs quietly, watching me intently.  
“What?” I ask, as a strange look comes across his face and he grins wider at me.  
“You have dimples!” he says excitedly, pointing at my cheek. I grin, making the dimples deeper, the one on the left far more noticeable than the right.   
“I wish I had dimples,” he sighed, still smiling at me.   
“Someone told me once that it’s actually a deformity, like the muscle in your cheek has collapsed or something,” I shrug, poking the dimple on my right cheek. He sticks his tongue out at me.  
“That doesn’t change anything, I still think it’s adorable,” he says flippantly, waving his hand like he was brushing my comment away. His eyes widen when he realises what he said.  
“I’m not saying that you’re adorable, just that you’re dimples are. Not that you’re not adorable, because you are, I just, um…” he says hurriedly, coughing awkwardly at the end.  
“It’s okay Phil, I know what you mean,” I laugh, grinning at him as he buries his face in his hands.  
“I’m so awkward, sorry,” I hear him mumble from behind his hands. I lean forward and pull his hands away from his face.   
“Yeah, so am I. You say sorry too much, did you know?” I tell him, letting his arms drop into his lap.  
“I know, sor-“ he cuts himself off by putting his hand over his mouth. I laugh again, shaking my head, Phil giggles from behind his hand. I try to hide the fact that I’m staring at him for the rest of lunch, but he catches me a few times, our cheeks flushing as we quickly look away from each other every time.  
“You have art now, we don’t have that class together, but I’ll show you the way," I tell him, grabbing his hand - his surprising warm and smooth hand - and pulling him up when the bell rings.  
“Oh, okay. What class you do have?” he asks, slightly disappointed, but still with a smile on his face.  
“I’ve got law,” I say, leading him towards his class, not paying much attention the people staring and making room for us to pass.  
“Boring!” he says jokingly, turning to smile at me. I shake my head and let out a small laugh.  
“It’s actually really interesting and pretty easy,” I explain, stopping in front of his class, Phil coming to stand next to me.  
“We have our next class together, so I’ll try and get here as fast as I can, but if not, just ask the teacher or something where the class is, yeah?” I tell him with a smile.  
“Yeah, okay, thanks Dan,” he says as I go to leave.  
“What are friends for?” I ask with a smile, turning away from him, catching his bright smile in the corner of my eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new chapter after this, wow, go me


	4. Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

Phil

I couldn’t contain the grin that spreads across my face as Dan walks away. I actually had a friend, an amazing friend. We had so much in common and he was so smart. He was so beautiful. I look down at my shoes as a blush rises to my cheeks. He wasn’t even around me and just the thought of him makes me blush. I probably shouldn’t even think about him like that. I didn’t want to get my hopes up if he didn’t like boys, or even if he doesn't like me in that way. 

I walk into the classroom and it seems like everyone was already sitting down. I notice an empty desk at the back of the classroom and go to make my way towards it, unfortunately, the teacher stops me.

“Ah, you must be Philip, why don’t you introduce yourself to the class?” He said loudly, directing everyone's attention onto me. I mumble a hello and my name before walking awkwardly to the desk, already immensely disappointed that Dan wasn’t sitting there blushing as I sat down.

I wasn’t very good at speaking to people. Actually, I was terrible at it. I would become a blushing mess and stumble over my words, which would make me feel embarrassed with myself, to the point of not even being able to think of a complete sentence. I’d then feel awful because whoever I was trying to talk to would either give me a harsh look, for not being able to talk, or they’d start treating me like a child talking to a stranger, I don’t know if they realise that they speak in a condescending tone, but they do, it makes me feel incredibly stupid. 

I don’t know why I spoke to Dan in the first place. He’d seemed so shy and embarrassed after I caught him staring at me. I just felt a weird connection to him. He was blushing nearly every time I looked at him, which was incredibly adorable, I’m not going to lie. He just seemed, different. He wasn’t like anyone I’d met before. I could guess that he was lonely just from looking at him, and I wasn’t wrong. He didn’t have any friends, and he claimed that nobody liked him, to the extent of them not liking me if I were to become his friend. Which I am now, and I’m quite happy about that. Why would I want to be friends with such judgemental people? Dan seems absolutely wonderful. He was so nice to me, and he didn't look at me funny when I couldn't speak, he would just smile, which made his pretty brown eyes sparkle.

I didn’t realise I’d been lost in my thoughts until the chair next to me scraped along the concrete floor, getting pulled out by a slightly muscled boy, his blond hair falling across his face messily. He scowled at me when I looked up. Oh great, I get to sit next to a jerk. I stop myself after that thought. That may not necessarily be true, he could’ve just had a bad day, there’s no need for me to be judgemental because he’s mad. I look down at my empty sketchbook and try to listen to what the teacher is saying about combining abstract and realism art into the one piece.  
“You’re the new kid aren’t you? Will or something yeah?” he whispers, sounding fairly aggressive. I look up at him in shock. Was he trying to get to know me or something? He sounded pretty rude when he spoke though. I guess I could try to speak to him, what harm could it do?  
“It’s Phil.” I mumble shrugging, looking towards the front of the room. He grunted, moving his things around the desk, bumping my arm roughly several times. Maybe this was why nobody sat next to him I think, frowning at my sketchbook.

I hear the teacher say that he needs to leave for a moment and to wait patiently. I let out a small sigh as I turn and face the open window. At least I won’t have to do too much work on the first day of school. I was getting lost in my thoughts again, of what it would be like if Dan were here now instead of this guy, when he interrupts my daydream by clearing his throat loudly and over dramatically, I ignore him.  
“Why were you talking to Howell?” he demands, loud enough for a few of the surrounding people to hear. I see a few turn in their seats slightly, subtly trying to watch our conversation, like I wouldn’t notice them. I shake my head a little.   
“What does it matter to you?” I ask offhandedly, scribbling in my sketchbook, making a point not to look at him, to show him that I was uninterested in this conversation. Why did he even care if I was talking to Dan or not? It doesn't affect him in any way.  
“That freak boy doesn’t talk to anyone! Why is he talking to you?” he says angrily, his hands forming fists on the desk. I look up at him sharply, my eyes piercing into his. Nope, I was right the first time, this guy is definitely a jerk.  
“His name is Dan, and he’s not a freak. Maybe he talks to me because I’m nice to him. Something you obviously don’t know about.” I say quietly, my voice snapping like a whip. He sits back in his seat, his eyes slightly wider, perhaps people don’t normally respond like I did. I shocked myself slightly also with my reaction, I don’t normally respond at all.  
He shakes his head and relaxes slightly, his forehead wrinkling as he raises his eyebrow at me and crosses his arms as he leans back in his seat.  
“You don’t know anything new kid. Howell’s weird, that’s why no one talks to him. He doesn’t want them to,” he says harshly, his head snapping to the door of the classroom when the teacher walks back in. I turn back and look out the window, processing the information I’d just received. Did Dan actually not want people talking to him? Or was that guy just making it up because he doesn’t like Dan? Nobody in the class who looked like they were listening seemed to disagree with him. I’d even seen two people nodding in agreement, before realising I was watching them and had looked away.

Dan had said that people didn’t like him. He didn’t seem like someone who would do anything bad. The guy hadn’t actually said that he had, just that he didn’t talk to anyone, because he didn’t want to talk to anyone. But that isn’t bad, why does that make him a freak?

I pack up my things as fast as I could when the bell rings, I have to ask Dan what was going on. I see the guy smirk at me as I walk to the door and in an instant, all of my anger from earlier return.

I see Dan leaning against the wall opposite my classroom, waiting for me. He smiles beautifully when I step through the doorway and into the hall, his lovely chocolate brown eyes sparkling and his dimples popping up on his cheeks. Suddenly his smile drops into a frown when he notices my sour expression.  
“What’s the matter Phil?” he asks, concern lacing his voice, his hand lifting up to fix up his soft, now slightly curling at the edges, brown hair, which he seems to do a lot. It was cut very similarly to mine now that I fully took notice of it, instead of just staring at his face, although his fringe fell in the opposite direction.  
“How did you get here so fast?” I ask, blatantly ignoring what he’d just said. He frowns at me and shrugs.  
“My class was let out early, but that’s irrelevant. You look upset,” Dan says, crossing his arms, knowing full well that I was trying to ignore his question. I could notice the people already stopping to stare at us, speaking amongst themselves and frowning. I furrow my eyebrows and tighten my lips into a straight line.  
“Phil, are you okay?” Dan questions worriedly, looking around, taking notice of all the people watching us. I shake my head at him and he looks down at his feet, sliding his hands into his pockets. He looks so defeated and it made me wonder if he normally showed any emotion at school from the slightly shocked faces of the people watching us.  
“Do you want me to leave you alone now?” he asks me quietly, his voice breaking slightly at the end of his sentence. He shakes his head roughly and looks up, frowning at the wall behind me. I notice that his eyes are shimmering more than usual, but maybe it was the awful lighting in the hallway. I frown and shake my head again, completely confused as to why he would think that.

I grab his arm and tug gently, motioning for him to come with me. He looks at me questioningly, his head tilted a little to the side, which reminds me of a confused puppy and I can’t help but grin at him. That seems to brighten him up slightly and he moves in the direction I had nodded to. I walk ahead of him, still holding his arm, determined not to take notice of all the people staring at us as we pass.

I don’t know my way around the school too well, so I just walk blindly until we’re at the library, near where we sat last lunch break. I pull him into the library and find a small pile of cushions at the back of building, behind a row of bookshelves. Why is he being so quiet? I turn to ask if anything is wrong when I realise that I’m holding his hand. I let go quickly, my face already burning up, I notice his whole face is red also and I smile shyly at him.  
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, looking away from him. He laughs under his breath and there's a look in his eyes that I can't quite place.  
“You apologise too much, it’s okay. You were going to tell me why you looked so angry,” he says with an eyebrow raised, getting straight to the point. I sigh and sit down on the soft pillows, patting the spot next to me. His mouth quirks up at the edges and he sits down, looking at me expectantly. I sigh again and nervously fix my hair. He’s just staring at me, his expression soft, a small grin gracing his features.

I clear my throat unnecessarily and look away from him, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly.  
“I, um, it’s just that, I…” I mumble, folding my hands together in my lap. Dan raises an eyebrow at me when I turn to look at him.  
“Yes, go on…” he says calmingly, still waiting patiently for me to tell him what was going on. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Why did I feel so nervous asking him this? Also, why did I feel like we’ve been friends for far longer than a few hours?  
“Why don’t you have any friends?” I ask quietly, pushing my previous thoughts aside and wincing slightly at the end of the question. Dan looks a little shocked at my question but calms his features and looks at me with a soft grin.  
“I don’t talk to anyone,” he states simply with a shrug. I stare at him, his calmness making me feel marginally less nervous than before. I’ve only just met him, I don’t want him to stop talking to me.  
“Why don’t you talk to anyone, if you don’t mind me asking? It’s just that, uh, someone in my class was asking why I was talking to you, and then he-” I cut myself off, looking down at my lap.  
“What did he do?” Dan asks, frowning. I shake my head. I don’t know how he reacts to these things. I don’t want to upset him.  
“He just, he called you a freak and I got mad at him. I don’t think he likes me very much now,” I explain, looking up at Dan, giving him a half-hearted smile.  
“Thank you for defending me,” Dan says, more sincerely than I would have expected, a light pink tinge settling on his cheeks.  
“I don’t talk to anyone because I, I just, I don’t like people. I don’t normally show any emotions, it um, I guess it makes everyone feel uncomfortable around me. So they all just kind of hate me?” Dan tells me, shrugging his shoulders slightly, looking away from me.  
“Why did you talk to me?” I question him, confused and somewhat flattered that I’m the only one he’s really spoken to.  
“Well, to be honest, I wasn’t going to. I just, I don’t know, you’re different,” Dan mumbles looking down at his lap. I smile at him, blushing a little bit. I thought the same about him. I daringly lean into him and I’m surprised when he doesn’t move or push me away from him.  
“You don’t have to constantly worry about me deciding to not be your friend because of what other people say. I haven’t even known you a day and you’re already a better friend than I’ve ever had,” I tell him, glad that he can’t see my face as I grin and rest my head on his shoulder.  
“Thank you Phil,” I can hear the smile in his words and I smile to. I seriously feel like this is going to be a great friendship, and hopefully something more, a small part of my mind says, and I fully agree. Normally I’d worry about how fast it’s developing, but I just clicked with Dan. It all felt right. I feel him shift beside me and I lift my head to look at him.  
“I promise I won’t leave you either,” he whispers, which seems surprisingly suitable for right now. My stomach flips and I blush but I don’t look away from him.  
“Thank you Dan,” I whisper back. He grins and relaxes back into the cushions and I lay my head back on his shoulder. Yeah, I'm definitely not worried at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo, is this shorter? idk, enjoy phil, dunno when the next chapter will appear, but it will happen, have faith pls, im just extremely lazy, i apologise

**Author's Note:**

> authors note or something idfk: i dont own Dan or Phil, obviously, idk, im sorry


End file.
